Recently I was invited to join a discussion on the ‘Third Attractor’. A concept coined by Daniel Schmachtenberger from dynamics theory, it describes a third option, or future scenario for humanity to navigate the interrelated catastrophic risks we face. The other options: chaotic unravelling or submit to dystopian authoritarianism.

For those concerned about the metacrisis, Schmachtenberger’s third attractor is undoubtedly more attractive! Described briefly as a solution birthed through decentralised capacities that are coordinated through an emergent collective process, rather than top down. The “whole has the power to check catastrophic dynamics without power consolidation,” Schmachtenberger writes.

This would require collective intelligence, collaboration, and responsible agency attuned to the contextual needs of our extremely complex world. An ideal option? Well…. yes. And no doubt there are some looking to the potentials of AI to help us fulfil some version of a third attractor.

However, it struck me in reflecting on all this that perhaps we need to first dig for something deeper than solutions.

The Fires of Tribalism

Ironically, and tragically, the interconnected world we inhabit is not only fractured, but seemingly consumed by raging polarisation. Tribalism thrives in gender and identity politics, progressive versus traditional worldviews, religious beliefs and fascism. It’s become an unfettered monster in our midst, sowing division and hatred. Moreover, vitriolic rhetoric is creating a chilling silence. Voices challenging this dangerous phenomenon are simply removed i.e. ‘cancelled’.

But perhaps no single issue has engulfed the world in the flames of polarisation, recently, more than the war in Gaza has. (Trumpian politics excluded).

Imperfect as the world is, it would be natural to expect some form of evolution in the ‘civilized’ interactions of State players in the 21st century. Given the moral cataclysms of the 20^th century. But images of Gaza and the moral inertia of powerful Western democracies, particularly, proved a shocking refutation of ‘never again’, destroying faith in any global order.

It was not only the heartbreaking images streaming across our screens, but also the divisive reactions to these that brought home to me just how profound, still, is the challenge of human unity. And as our lives and destinies are intertwined as never before, this issue is probably going to be decisive in terms of what future we can actually create together. 

Gaza is a conflict that should not, and need not, have happened in the way it has. Despite its ancient roots, it personifies the challenges of modern transactional politics and leadership. But equally, Gaza has touched ordinary people across race, class, and ethnicity (more than 50 countries were represented on the March to Gaza in Egypt, June 2025, and the Sumud flotilla, six months later). The horrors of Gaza have propelled an emerging consciousness, actively seeking the transcendence of division.

On a personal note, the Gazan crisis tore through my own progressive community, worldwide. I found myself faced with the challenge of not closing off, not separating from others (including close friends of decades) who held very different, if not seemingly morally opposing views. I felt the powerful pull of wanting to avoid the whole thing, of remaining silent.

Fear of being attacked, of losing friends on issues we know in our hearts we should not be quiet about, has raised very real questions: how to authentically engage when ‘we’ (whoever we are} hold radically different views and values, and emotions are enflamed? Evidence suggests that even the most progressive values are forgotten when tribal instincts are awakened.

The Challenge of Being Human

The West has grown alarmingly mute on moral issues. Political leaders have all but abandoned defence of any kind of agreed principles. And social commentators draw parallels between what’s happening in the 2020’s and what happened in the 1930’s. As Umair Haque, economist and author, recently observed: “Fascism is the cleavage of human beings into superhuman and subhuman. From that point, all else follows naturally. The atrocities, the horrors, the contempt for the rule of law, the abuses of power…”

So, given the current state of affairs, how do we find genuine common ground within the divisive polarities that exist, without resorting to dominant-subordinate frameworks, superficial postmodern memes, the likes of ‘everyone’s view is equal’/valid’, ‘do no judge’, or even worse, ‘the world is just a play, an ‘illusion’? …Or simply walking away from it all.

Secondly, how do we call out or condemn policies and actions that violate our fundamental sense of interconnectedness, without fuelling more division? How do we refrain from being silent spectators to historic human and environmental atrocities?

The vast range of emotional responses we possess as human beings is both a gift and a challenge. A challenge we often don’t pay enough attention to. Identifying with powerful emotions risks loss of objectivity. And in extreme cases, this can mean losing touch with what makes us truly human – our empathy, our compassion, our rationality.

The question that could ultimately determine our future, and which of Schmachtenberger’s ‘attractors’ we choose, is how do we authentically deal with deep differences, without creating irrevocable rifts in the fabric of our unity, and the potential for a truly collective intelligence?

Spiritual Introspection

Professor Marc Gopin, a global conflict mediator, argues that prolonged conflict and hatred is the result of an emotional, cognitive, and ethical failure to self-examine. After decades in the field, he concludes that true transformation of a troubled society is brought about by the spiritual introspection of extraordinary, determined individuals.

With this in mind, I turned to Yael Treidel, an Israeli peace-worker of the last few decades. I wanted to ground this exploration of what’s involved in resolving polarization with someone at the epicentre of one of the most entrenched conflicts. The implications of which have spilled across the world, challenging our ideas, again, of what ‘civilized’ means.

Despite personal loss, Yael is amongst a rare minority in Israel who have refused to collapse into tribalism. A fierce critic of Hamas, she has consistently critiqued her government’s actions in Gaza and the West Bank, and those supporting this; while at the same time, refraining from demonizing her fellow citizens, most of whom regard her position as traitorous. I sought her out in Freiburg, where she recently relocated, to discuss these wider questions.

3rd Space: Welcome Yael.

We live in a fragile world where dehumanization is becoming dangerously normalised. I remember at the outset of this war, you stated that you were not going to “betray” your own humanity by dehumanising Palestinians and reducing a whole population to a “terrorist” group.

In the attack on October 7, you lost personal friends. You’ve experienced grief and bereavement at the death of your brother during his military service. Yet, you’ve retained real relationships with Palestinian people, working together for years to find a way forward to this impasse.

While condemning Hamas’ violence, you also condemn the lethal response by your (Israeli) government against a civilian population. And despite accusations of ‘betrayal’ by fellow citizens, you retain an empathy for Jewish Israelis who hold a radically different view to you on this conflict.

Yours is a perspective that is not easily categorised. Let alone lived. What is that? And what do you think is the source? And, if possible, how do we cultivate this?

Context is Critical

Yael: Those are huge questions, which I do not claim to know the answer to.

But when it comes to issues that are close to us, we find it much, much harder to hold context. In Israel for example, everybody experienced trauma. When the sirens go off, you don’t sleep. If you have children, you must wake them up and run for the shelter, and then get them back to sleep again. School is on and off. In many families, men were called to the army and women left to deal with work and the children. A lot of people felt very alone. They lost jobs, lost money. There is constant anxiety. 

It’s often said, rightly, that the Gazans have it much worse. But after three years (including protests at government attempts at dictatorship), the people of Israel are exhausted, depressed. The level of suicide, emotional anxiety, and use of psychologists, psychiatrists, and antidepressants, has gone through the roof. Almost everybody has lost someone. It’s a very small country.

And then there are families who had members taken hostage.

Because what’s happened in Gaza is horrific, we tend to think it’s not so bad for Israelis. But if you compare the situation in Israel to the situation in London or Germany, then the level of stress, insecurity, and grief is off the chart.

3rd Space: That’s so true. It’s a reality we can easily lose sight of.

Yael: Yes, knowing all this helps put things in perspective. At the same time, I’m very critical of my own people, of Jews and Jewish Israelis, who are not horrified, who do not speak out against what’s happening in Gaza. Who are only concerned about us, and not about the atrocities we are committing.

I am not saying that I am better than anybody. I would like to find a way to speak with others, so they can see beyond our (Israeli) suffering. But I also get to the point where it’s too much,

We human beings are complicated. I have something in me that understands where my Jewish peers are coming from. And I can also empathise with the pain of the Palestinians. But just because I can understand where people are coming from, doesn’t mean that I don’t judge them, right? I’m not a big fan of ‘Do not judge,’ I’m very critical of what Israel has done in Gaza. It’s morally despicable.

Seeing the Monster Inside

3rd Space: Given the extremity of the Holocaust in WW2, and the shock and revulsion expressed by the world, why do you think this has happened? Why has humanity not learned?

Yael: The way I see this is that people cannot handle looking in the mirror and seeing the monster inside. We avoid, justify, or blame, just as many sensitive, intelligent Israelis are doing now, when we can’t face the ugly truths about ourselves. There are also cultural figures who support this avoidance. An Israeli psychologist, for example, recently wrote that Israelis who say we are doing something horrible, are expressing a form of self-punishment that comes from “neurotic guilt” or “moral neurosis.”

We think we should be able to handle the truth. But when it’s close to home, a lot of people just can’t deal with it. And that’s what allows terrible things to happen.

Again, I am very critical about all this, but parallel to being critical, I also understand where it’s coming from.

Beyond Binaries: Emotional Complexity

3rd Space: This is important because you’re standing outside of the boundaries of common binary positions that pit one against another.

Yael: Well, I doubt my liberal friends would say that the death of thousands of innocent civilians is ‘right’. But they feel it’s maybe tragic but unavoidable, or that ‘they’ [Palestinians] brought it on themselves.

3rd Space: What you’re expressing, then, is an objectivity and critique which includes the nuance of historical context and, importantly, the emotional context of those holding opposing views. Without in any way validating their position.

Yael: It’s not everyone’s role to be politically active. But for people who are liberal, progressive, sensitive and intelligent to not be voicing a position on something so clearly ‘wrong’, or voicing an ambiguous position, is troubling.

3rd Space: The the human psyche seems to find it easier to gravitate to seeing things through a binary lens. Avoiding the complexity of life provides a fleeting sense of being able to ‘manage’ inner conflict, and external chaos.

To find ground within ourselves where we can objectively critique our own biases, our communities’, and our leaders’, especially on something of moral significance, is very demanding. A depth of maturity. When you say, “I judge”, you are in fact calling out what you see as wrong.

Yael: Yes, I give it a moral reading.

3rd Space: Without self-objectivity, you could feel you’re separating from, or ‘even ‘betraying’ Israeli people in calling out a moral wrong. But, in fact, you are neither betraying your friends, nor your culture. Quite the opposite. Because seeing this possibility amid such raw division opens up another option.

Yael: Many would disagree. There are people in Israel who feel that I’m weakening Israel, that I’m inviting more criticism.

3rd Space: That must be hard to bear.

Facing the Monster or Not

Yael: When people are under a lot of stress, trauma, insecurity, their ability to take in the ‘other’s’ grief, loss and anxiety is limited. There’s no room for the pain of the ‘enemy’.

I’m not a psychologist. But if you try to survive by maintaining a sense of identity (the ‘good’ one) and you believe it, then you will be afraid that if you open up to the truth, you might collapse.

This concerns me. If we (Israelis) deeply let in the truth, what is going to happen in Israel? How do we live with it? This is already the case with soldiers returning from Gaza. And I think it will be similar for those who did not protest our committing genocide. At a certain point, the Gazan border will open to journalists, and people will see what we have done.

The question is then, are we going to let ourselves fall apart and say, “Oh, my God, what have we done?’ Or will we raise the walls higher, and say ‘it’s not our fault’?

There’s a book that came out last year with the title, One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This, Like after World War 2… suddenly there were no Nazis, because everybody was against what happened. But in Gaza everything has been documented. We will have to face it.

3rd Space: Not only Israel. The violation of humanity, the destruction of innocent lives could not have happened on the scale it has without Western enablement. The implications are huge: facing the monster in all of us, and potentially creating an authentic moral world order—or not. 

Interconnectedness or Dehumanisation

3rd Space: Gopin claims that what deep healing involves are neither political nor cultural solutions but is a spiritual matter.

Yael: A tricky concept, many right-wing fanatics are religious zealots.

3rd Space: Yes, yet there is a profound connectivity to life. When we violate that sense of unity, it feels like a ‘moral’ issue, right? This is a loaded concept too, but I’m pointing to something deeper than dogma. As human beings, we express that connectivity in our empathy, love, compassion, and care.

Yael: Something that may relate to the point you are making is that I am not willing to accept that any people are less than others. For me, the main lesson of the Holocaust is what can happen when you dehumanise the ‘other’. 

The Rwandan genocide saw the Hutus literally turn the Tutsis into non-humans. It was easy, then, to slaughter them. This is what’s been happening in Israel with the occupation. Seeing Palestinians as less, as ‘not like us’, is why we can ignore their situation. Even liberal, leftwing, progressive people. So, when something like October 7 happens, despite the history of the occupation, it appears to be ‘out of the blue’. And dehumanisation follows very, very fast.

None of it is Our Fault, it’s Their Fault

3rd Space: What is it that allows us to stop, to be willing to hold something beyond ‘us and them’, even in the face of violence?

Yael: We were talking about being willing to see the monster. I think if we aren’t willing to see the monster within ourselves, then we become the monster. We won’t see it arising. We need at least to be interested, but not in a superficial way.

3rd Space: Superficial?

Yael: A lot of spiritual people can recognize ego. People who meditate a lot, contemplate, are looking at the human condition. But when October 7 happened, suddenly there was no sense of responsibility from people who appear introspective. ‘None of it is our fault, it’s their fault’.

Do we feel we are better people because we meditate? ‘Maybe I’m selfish… but I’m working on it… I want to become a better person’ etc…. Perhaps all this only makes us feel good about ourselves?

What is important to me, is not succumbing to the need to be superior, to be ‘better’. It’s very challenging. If I am honest, l do feel I’m a little better person than those who deny the genocide in Gaza. It’s crude. And I try to be aware of it, to see this vanity is the cause of separation and violence, itself.

I don’t know if human beings will ever be able to eradicate the drive to dominate and control? It’s deep in us to put ourselves above other human beings, other forms of life, the Earth itself.

Having the willingness to see the monster within oneself, means being willing to bear a lot of pain. And this depends on what one’s identity is rooted in. If it’s rooted in one’s culture, one’s community, and one’s country, then it’s really hard. It means questioning everything, and then who am I?

3rd Space: This raises the question of our capacity for stewardship? Do we not have an obligation to generations to come? Vengeance can feel obligatory. It’s an unspoken but shared human understanding. Breaking the cycle of pain and revenge surely demands a higher order of allegiance – to life, to future generations?

Yael: Yes. This is why it’s on each of us to feel the urgency of that. To make whatever effort to not allow ourselves to indulge our primitive reactions, no matter how understandable.

We need leaders also, but we need grass roots movements that produce those leaders.

The Soul of Israel

Yael: Years ago, I went to Yad Vashem, a Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem, with two friends, one from Germany, the other American. We went through the whole museum. I could see on my German friend’s face, it was a lot to let in.

When we emerged, we stood very quietly in the sun for a couple of minutes. Then something burst out of me, like, “Thank, God, I’m from the victim’s side.”  I was shocked at myself. They didn’t say anything. I was really embarrassed. What a weird thing to say. But it stuck with me for years.

During the war in Gaza, I read a quote from a respected Rabbi, who survived the Holocaust. Somebody said to him that the Holocaust is the worst that could ever happen. The Rabbi replied, “Well, it could have been worse”. The student asked him, ‘What do you mean? How could it be worse?’ And he said, “It would have been worse if we were the murderers.”

I suddenly understood what I said 30 years ago outside the Holocaust Museum.

As a culture, as a country, I feel the soul of Israel has gone dark. It’s not like it was a pure soul. It was problematic before. But it’s so dark now, I think it will take years to wipe clean the stain. And there’s something in me that feels that if the only way Israel can exist is by denying the civil and human rights of millions of people, then I don’t want to be part of this.

When people say to me, ‘there can’t be peace’, then if there can’t be a way for all of us to live between the river and the sea together, in two states, in one state, or any combination; if there is no way, I don’t want to be part of a people whose existence depends on stepping on the neck of another. If, as I am told, the only way for us to exist, is to oppress Palestinians, then I don’t want to be here.

But I don’t think this is the only option. I do think there is a way to co-exist.

I think there is a principle here. Because, if I and the other are one, then of course my existence can’t be at the expense of the other. I think this is key. And It’s also key for the planet, for sustainability.

If one of the main spiritual principles of almost every tradition is realising the unity of all, not the sameness of everything, but that with all our diversity and difference, we are existentially not separate, then this means fundamentally no one on top and no one on the bottom.

I don’t describe myself as a spiritual person, but it seems to me that this is the ground rule – the unity and interconnectedness of everything, ultimately. 

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With thanks to the artist Ann Morton for the header image.